For the Good of New York
by love97
Summary: Finally updated! Ch. 8: “All ya gotta do is tell us who ya’re sidin’ with. That’s all, kid. Just a simple answer.” JuliusCaesar.
1. Default Chapter

**A/N:** So I've decided to start another Shakespeare! I won't be writing/updating for a while on this story since I'm in the middle of another one, but I'm 99 sure these are how the characters will be. Some of the characters in the play have either been combined or taken out, and the characters Bolt, Switch, and Flip are mine. I'm going to start writing and posting this shortly, though. Drop a review of your thoughts…

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**_The Tragedy of Julius Caesar_**

**Julius Caesar: **Jack Kelly

_The Triumvirate_

**Marc Antony: **Spot Conlon

**Octavius:** Bolt

**Lepidus:** Switch

_The Conspirators _

**Brutus: **David Jacobs

**Cassius: **Skittery

**Casca: **Mush

**Decius: **Kid Blink

**Ligarius: **Boots

**Metellus Cimber: **Snoddy

**Cinna: **Specs

_Others_

**Cicero: **Racetrack

**Calpurnia: **Sarah Jacobs

**Artemidorus: **Flip

_**Setting: New York City, 1899**_


	2. Prologue

_Prologue: David and Goliath_

The newsboys of New York City were divided. During the days of the strike they were to choose one side and one side only. Those wishing to uphold their jobs and not risk sleeping on the streets grew loyal to Joseph Pulitzer and his newspaper empire. But the boys who wished for change knew that their voice was more important than maybe a quarter a day, and those were Jack Kelly's followers. No, they were more of an army than they were followers. And Jack was the famous and respected leader of this army. Not only did he have control of Manhattan, but he held Brooklyn, Queens, the Bronx, and other territories in the palm of his hand. Full of courage and valor, Jack was a brave man in the eyes New York's children. He had conquered the beast Goliath and lived to tell the tale. Saying that he was a hero simply wouldn't do him justice.

The day that ended the strike marked the power of Jack Kelly. He was practically unstoppable as he made his way back into the distribution place with Teddy Roosevelt in his company. Jack humbly soaked in the triumph with his little soldiers applauding the gallant victory they had just won. And he kissed the girl. And the fighters smiled.

_But don't be deceived._ Not all was what it had seemed and not all were as overenthusiastic of Jack's conquest over Pulitzer. The smiles of some boys were painted upon their faces rather than grown naturally. Yes, the newsboys benefited much from Jack and the strike, and they were just as happy as the next. However, they were not naïve; they had the courage to look past the luster of Jack and what they saw did worry them. It disturbed them and daunted them. For what they saw was dictatorial likelihood in this champion. They were fearful of his potential. Two men did know this.

And the end of what was seemingly the worst of these newsboys' lives was quite simply only the start of something far worse.

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**A/N:** I couldn't help taking a break from my other story to write this quick little prologue. I honestly couldn't tell you the next time I'll be updating this. I was reading a VERY good story and was filled with the urge to get right on this one lol. So tell me what you think and leave a review (we know you want to…) 


	3. Chapter One

**Sparks:** Good to hear from you again! Thanks for reading this one and FF. Don't worry about not leaving reviews. I do that a lot hehe.

**Twilight:** "Yayness!" That's so something I would say lol. I think you're my most loyal reader Claps> You get a cookie and a sticker

**Chocolates:** The site does that to me too! I'll get on it to see if it's posted any of my updates sometimes and it'll say that I do but I can't get to the actual updated chapters at all. It's so freakin' frustrating. I usually try to "access" the story from different ways lol. Like, I'll go to the Newsies page or my profile or someone else's profile that has my story on there. It usually does the trick. Cute username, by the way

**Buttons: **I'm planning to stick to the play as much as I can. I've written another Shakespeare (Romeo and Juliet) and you could see the definite similarities. For example, Spot says in this chapter to Jack "Anything ya want" and in the play Antony says to Caesar "When Caesar says 'do this,' it is perform'd." So you'll see a lot of things that have been tweaked for this version.

**Charlie Bird: **Thanks man! "The Taming of the Shrew", I think I'm seeing that ballet this March! Oh you are definitely not alone when you think about newsies + Shakespeare, let me tell you that!

**A/N**: Whoo! 5 readers on just the _prologue_! That's so good for me! Normally it's like one or none haha. Maybe this is truly the story for me lol. Okay so I'm really getting in to this story and I'm writing a lot, but I can't guarantee that'll happen all the time. I really need to get going on my other one (my mom is making me submit it to a writing contest). But in the mean time, let's just read on to the first real chapter, shall we? Oh, and I'm writing this note before the chap, but right now I'm seeing the chapters, on average, to be a little long. Not that it'll like take you an hour to read, but yeah, you get it lol. Onward!

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_**Chapter One: Such Men are Dangerous**_

Just as the sun was setting on the city, the newsboys, accompanied with either a girlfriend or just themselves, celebrated the brilliant triumph at Tibby's restaurant. Unlike the street protest earlier, this crowd included mainly the newsboys. The restaurant practically busted at the seams as everyone crowded inside and filled every space available, eating dinner and drinking the generous amount of alcohol. Jack had yet to enter and his presence was being long awaited. A smile crossed every person's face as it seemed to be the greatest day of their lives.

A fairly sized procession made its way down the street and was approaching Tibby's. Jack led the way; his shoulders broad and a proud look about his face. Beside him strode the leader of Manhattan's closest ally, Spot Conlon, paving the way for Jack to proceed safely to the restaurant. To the other side of the cowboy was his newly united girlfriend Sarah Jacobs, who he had just recently declared his love for. Sarah's brother, David, the humble brains behind the entire strike, strolled behind them along with Skittery.

"So, ya ready to party, cowboy?" asked Spot with a devious smile on his cheeks and sparked gray eyes.

Jack let out a laugh, a break from his ever present grin. "I ain't gonna lie to you, Spot, it'll feel damn good to let off a little steam after everything that's happened." He stepped away from the group a little bit and spoke low into Spot's ear. "You're a hell of a lot better at holdin' your alcohol than me, so if things happen, make sure Sarah's gets home okay, all right?"

Spot laughed. "No problem, Jack. Anything ya want."

Jack gave a teasing punch to Spot's arm and they continued on their way. Sarah laced her fingers with his and walked closely next to his side. Spot hurried before them and swung open the doors to the restaurant widely to make an entrance. The people began cheering loudly as Spot began a speech for the King of Manhattan's entry. Jack waited a few feet behind him as the rest shuffled into the room for him to make his way in alone.

"Hey…Cowboy," a whisper called from behind him.

Jack turned his head around to match a person to the voice. "What?"

"Ovah here," it called again.

He spun around and watched the voice come into the light. It was just a girl who looked like an attendee at the party; her looks were plain as were her clothes, and her hair was a red, curly disheveled mess. A look took over her face that looked as though she had something cleverly important to tell him.

"Yeah? Do I know you?" he asked.

The girl smirked slightly and stood with her hands at her sides and face tilted downward but eyes still upon him, replying in a low voice, "I know you."

"Oh. Okay." Jack squinted, not sure of what else to say. "Well, hope ya have fun. G'night."

"Wait!" the girl rushed toward him and spun him back around by gripping his arm tightly. "I have to tell you something."

"And what's that?" Jack figured she had been drinking and he decided to ride this one out, all with a bemused look upon him.

She pulled his head closer to her level with his warm cheeks against hers, and she whispered into his ear, "Think twice on the last of September." Her voice was full of caution and heed, and she slowly drew back to a strong eye contact with him. A long skinny finger made its way up to her hair as she twirled a few strands around, making odd, subtle movements and humming to herself still with her eyes upon him.

Unsure of how to respond, Jack stared at her as mixed thoughts spun about his mind. The girl's eyes now were intuitive with a hint of awareness in them. A grin made its way onto his face. "You should make your way home, girly. It ain't safe to be out this late while you're drunk."

She cocked her head to the side as if she were amused at the way he was treating her; after all, she was very much sober and held information from which he could benefit very much.

"I mean, I've been around plenty 'a drunk fellas in my life that've said weird things, but this one takes it all!" Jack stepped back and started to turn away, shaking his head in laughter.

The girl's lips curled up into a smirk. "I ain't drunk, cowboy. Ya better watch out."

"Oh okay. What day was that again?" He stepped closer and pretended to listen up again, mocking the girl's words.

"September thirtieth."

"I'll write it down," Jack replied scathingly and turned his back to her.

The girl simply sneered and moseyed away down the street. Jack shook the thoughts out of his mind and he strutted into the doorway into a massive crowd of applause, cheers, and whistling. He beamed widely and waved his hand around to everyone, yelling "thank you" in gratitude. Sarah smiled at him sweetly and he pulled her to his side from the crowd and made his way back a booth with his arm around her.

After most of the exaltation had subsided, Skittery and David slipped out into the street, thankful to be out of the deafening noise and celebration. Skittery swiftly struck a match a lit up a modest cigarette.

"Christ, I think we get it," Skittery complained, "Jack Kelly saves the day again." He exhaled a breath of wispy smoke toward the street which only occupied a small population of people.

"Yeah," agreed David without much emotion. He paced around unhurriedly and scratched the back of his curly brown hair.

"Somethin' wrong?"

David sighed heavily. "My head kinda hurts with all this excitement, know what I mean?" He placed a hand to the back of his neck and rolled his head around stressfully.

"Yeah, I know exactly what ya mean." Skittery stepped to the side of David. "I mean, _we_ won the strike, not just one person. Crazy how one guy can jus' take it all away, ain't it?"

"Take it all away?"

"Well, if ya ask me, you definitely didn't get the credit you deserve, Mr. Walkin' Mouth. You were the brains behind the whole damn strike for cryin' out loud." Skittery inhaled deeply on his cigarette.

"Its fine, Skit," David answered flatly but in a voice that was clearly masking a deeper feeling. "It's okay."

"No, it ain't okay!" Skittery responded hastily. "Since when did we make Kelly the king?"

From inside the restaurant came another quick round of cheers and the two boys to look behind them and back again.

"I think just now," David stated with a sarcastic tone.

Skittery flicked his cigarette to the ground. "Dave, he's just anotha newsie who happens to have a bit more guts than we got. But he's still just a newsie. Ya wanna know what I really think, though?" He stepped over to the brick wall and leaned his back against it, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Do I have a choice?"

"Not really. I think you're bein' too modest about all 'a this. I mean, if it weren't fer you we wouldn't've won the strike. You got the brains, Dave. If it weren't fer you we'd never've gotten Brooklyn, and Brooklyn brought all the others. You should be the one in there drinkin' to your heart's content.

"Like I said, Jack's still just a newsie. Jack Kelly, David Jacobs." He imitated a balance with his hands while saying the names. "Cowboy, Walkin' Mouth. They sound the same to me. You got this started; Jack just finished it. I mean, what kind 'a society are we livin' in if one guy tramples over the other when they're just newsies?"

David shoved his hands into his pockets and looked down to the ground. "I don't know, Skittery. But to be honest I'd rather be living somewhere else than here right about now."

"Ya have to at least agree with me, though, right?" Skittery asked. "Ain't exactly fair."

"I'll consider it."

Silent moments passed as David paced around in thought when Skittery suggested they make their way back inside for something to eat. Jack finished the last bit of his beer while throwing his head back, devouring the drink wholly. Sarah sat with her hands entwined together on the table as she played with the crumbs of her biscuit on the plate and tried to look like she was having more fun than in reality. Jack scooted closer to her, enticing a small chuckle from her lips. He turned up the corners of his lips and pecked her sweetly on the cheek. As his eyes traveled about the room, he noticed David and Skittery enter the room. Skittery seemed to be wearing a mask of suspicion, like he was doing something he shouldn't. Furrowing his eyebrows Jack waved to Spot's attention across the table.

"What's up with Skittery?" Jack asked.

Spot turned behind him and scoped him out for a few moments and spun back around. "What d'you mean?"

"The look on his face is kinda botherin' me. Like he got somethin' to hide. Y'know?" Jack stole a muffin from someone's plate beside him and tore it in half with his teeth. "Thinks too much."

"I don't think you gotta worry about Skittery, Jack."

"Always in a bad mood," stated Jack as though Spot had never said anything. He spoke through chomps of his food rudely. (Though nobody really cared). "Never really enjoyin' things. Never plays cards, never goes out with us guys…"

Spot finished his drink and waved a hand to Jack. "Don't kill yaself over it, Jack. He's not that dangerous."

Skittery shoved his way through the sociable people and situated himself at a table for two against the wall towards the back. With an annoyed grunt he wiped off the surface and plopped into a chair, as did David with less obvious annoyance. Skittery noticed Mush sweet-talking to a girl he had never seen before a few feet away. Mush smiled charmingly into the girl's big eyes as she blushed back innocently. She brushed a finger just underneath his chin and turned around, beaming, and leaving Mush to watch her glide across the room. Skittery waited until she was gone and snapped his fingers promptly. "Mush!"

Snapping back to reality, Mush looked to Skittery with his big brown eyes. "Yeah?" He began to walk toward them.

"Nice-lookin' girl ya got there," he complimented flatly.

Mush looked back around to make sure she hadn't left. "Thanks…" he trailed off.

"Hey, what'd we miss? Sounded like somethin' happened not too long ago."

Mush turned to face him again and looked above him in thought, trying to recall the recent events. "Well, Spot tried givin' Jack the key, but he denied it. Not sure why, though. If I was Jack I'd be takin' it! I mean, that's Spot's _key_."

Indeed it was. The famous key that hung around Spot's neck was passed to him not too long ago from the late leader of Queens and was practically a symbol of power. Once Spot was given the key he was given the respect of all newsboys in New York City. For Jack to have the key was something incredibly honorable.

"Denied it just like that?" Skittery shifted his eyes to David as they exchanged knowing looks and thought the same thing.

"Yeah, I dunno what it was all about. Kinda made him human if ya ask me, like he didn't deserve nothin' for what he did." Mush shrugged and went about his way to pursue his latest love interest.

Skittery sighed heavily and shook his head. David rubbed his eyes and left to use the restroom, leaving Skittery alone with his scheming thoughts.


	4. Chapter Two

**Chocolates:** Haha, finally! Hopefully you don't get too many problems with that happening. I remember getting e-mailed the "review alerts" before I even knew my story's been posted. I was like damn that was fast! Hope you enjoy the story

**Sparks:** You are too funny. I love all the "woot woot" and stuff haha. Not going to lie, I was proud of A Hateful Vengeance, and I'm so glad you liked it! Thanks bunches!

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_**Chapter Two: The Storm Hits**_

"What's 'a matter with you, Mush?" asked Racetrack Higgins as they took shelter from the raging storm outside in a half empty bar a few blocks away from the lodging house. He sat at the wooden table, smoking a cigar leisurely.

Mush stared out the window at the pouring rain splattering against the window viciously. His eyes were full of worry and only blinked on occasion. A mug of beer attached to his hand that grasped the glass tightly. Racetrack snapped in front of his face, bringing him back to reality.

"Huh? It's rainin' pretty hard out there," Mush finally answered.

"Ya think?" retorted Race. "You all right, though? Looks like ya just saw a ghost or somethin'."

Mush brought his arm up and downed the foaming, cold drink completely, wiping his mouth with his sleeve sloppily afterward. "Strange things have been happenin' that I'se seen. Have ya noticed 'em too?" He turned his stare to Race with fret.

"You'se always been superstitious," laughed Race.

"Yeah, but I noticed some things today and last night. First of all, it started stormin' late last night and it hasn't stopped since then, when it hasn't stormed like this in a long time. And it's freezin' cold outside too. We couldn't sell too good and even though the strike's over now, it was still pretty hard to sell today. I was walkin' back from my sellin' spot and saw _two_ people get their umbrellas hit by lightning. That ain't normal, I never seen that before. And I had this strange dream last night where all the guys at the lodging house was killed except for Jack."

Mush took the cigar out of his mouth and held it between his index and middle fingers. Indeed they were odd occurrences and he didn't know how to quite answer. Mush tended to over-think things. The lightning flashed sporadically outside and suddenly the wind picked up, blowing a leave to the window and sticking to it for a few moments. The small room was empty and the bartender served the few old men at the counter frequently, making small talk and refilling their glasses. Lighting was dim and occasionally the building flashed blue for an instant.

"I think ya're readin' too much into it," Race said to Mush and put out his cigar into the small glass plate. He placed his hat upon his head and got out of his seat to leave. "But I agree with ya: those things are pretty damn weird."

Mush nodded and looked into his empty glass. "Jack's bein' made official tomorrow, if ya plan on goin'."

"Official? We're still goin' on about how great he is?" Race made a face at all the hype people were making. "All right, whatever. See ya."

Race made his way toward the door as Skittery shuffled down the street soaked to the bone and looking as if the rain had no affect on him. They shook hands quickly and parted ways. Skittery entered the bar and spotted Mush in an instant. His shoes squeaked with every step and he left a trail of rain behind him, making the bartender grunt in irritation. Almost a smile crossed Skittery's face as he took a seat at Mush's table. His clothes were dripping with water and no part of him was dry. He looked like he didn't mind the weather at all; in fact it seemed as though he enjoyed it. Mush looked at him weirdly.

"You look happy," Mush asked.

Skittery grinned. "What's the weather tellin' us? Obviously someone up there don't think its right with the way things turned out, ya know what I mean? Kinda reminds me of someone we know…thunderin' around like he's the ruler of the earth."

Mush smirked to himself. "Ya know they're givin' him the key tomorrow, right? They're really goin' through with this whole leader thing."

Skittery stared at Mush for a brief moment with a blank expression and immediately smacked his hand against the table, disrupting the room quite a bit. "If they make Jack the almighty king of everything, then they can throw me away for murda. I ain't gonna stand for this shit no more."

Mush nodded approvingly. "We gotta do somethin' before this goes to Jack's head."

Skittery placed a hand on Mush's shoulder. "We think alike, my friend, we think alike All the newsies in this city are makin' a big mistake tomorrow. Such idiots."

The door again opened, breezing in some rain and wind. Specs, another newsboy unhappy with Jack Kelly's recent rising to sudden emperor, walked briskly toward them and plopped into the third chair at the table. He removed his hat and wiped away the water from his glasses. "Talkin' about Kelly, I'm guessin'."

"You got it," Skittery told him and shook his hand quickly.

"This is such bullshit!" Specs expressed suddenly. "This whole thing just made everything worse. We ain't recognized by anyone; Jack is. And God knows where that'll take us."

Skittery and Mush both nodded in agreement.

"Which is why, boys, I got a plan," Skittery told them. A simper grew to his cheeks and his eyes sparked with malice as he informed them of his plot.

Tomorrow as Jack prepared to be "crowned" in front of all the newsboys from Manhattan and other territories, they were going to kill him. They conspired to murder Jack Kelly for the better of the newsboys. Skittery explained that it simply had to be done. Jack could not gain any more power than he already had. He also informed them that they aren't the only ones that aren't pleased with the strike's outcome, which put the other two boys at ease. But there was just one thing standing in the way of their plan.

"David," Skittery said. "We need David completely to be with us. Almost got him, but we need all 'a him."

Mush nodded. "If we get Dave to join, it'll put worthiness to this whole thing. People respect him a whole lot."

"Exactly," Skittery said, leaning in closer to the table and getting more fired up just speaking of their scheme.

"Wait a sec," Specs put his hand up. "We can't just go up to him and say 'Hey, wanna murder Jack today?' It ain't gonna work. He's gonna want a better reason."

Skittery dug around his pockets and pulled out three folded pieces of paper. "Yeah, I though about that too, Specs. So I came up with a little somethin' to persuade him." He handed the papers to Specs one by one.

Specs unfolded them to find letters from various newsboys pleading with David that he does something to stop Jack's reign as leader. The handwriting was scribbled furiously and he squinted, attempting to read the words and having to skip over a few. How Skittery knew how to write this, he did not know.

"Tonight, and it's gotta be tonight, you gotta get these to David somehow," explicated Skittery. "But ya can't be seen. I suggest you toss them through his window or somethin', that'd be the best way to make sure he sees them. Go up the fire escape tonight and just put them in his bedroom."

Specs looked at him almost amazed at Skittery's wickedness and conniving ideas. Though he didn't object to them one bit; this task had to be done.


	5. Chapter Three

**Sparks: **The plot thickens even more! lol I'm surprised that I've been updating so quickly, to be honest. I'll just got on the computer, type a chap, and send it in! Lucky…we didn't get any snow days this year.

**A/N:** REVIEW! lol that's all I have to say. Come on, come on, just a few words…lol. No pressure! Oh, and does anyone else like the new I know I sure do hehe

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**_Chapter Three: The Meeting of the Conspirators_**

David paced up and down throughout the kitchen uneasily. The storm blew around outside as he rubbed his forehead in thought with each step. Les, the youngest of the Jacobs family, sat comfortably at the table, watching and wondering what his older brother was up to. Occasionally David mumbled out loud his mind with selected words and clenched his fists. The clock struck ten o'clock and the thundered rumbled outside. As David muttered something along the lines of "serpent in the egg", Les raised one eyebrow in confusion and yawned.

"What are you doin'?" Les inquired finally.

With a turn on his heel, David faced his brother without saying anything. A flash of lightning sparked the sky and David stepped toward Les and crouched down so that he only looked up at him from a small distance. "Les, remember when I was reading that story about the snake when we were back at school?"

Les nodded. "Yeah, somethin' like killing it before it came out of the egg, I think." He shrugged, utterly confused to where this was leading, and he started to doubt David's sanity.

"Right." David paused and stood back up again. He paced for another moment, pulling at his hair. "Okay," he took a seat at a chair next to Les. "You know how Jack's getting the key tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Les answered slowly, "what's that got to do with a snake?"

"Well, ya know, sometimes," stammered David, "you have to—"

"Wait, what was that?" Les interrupted and looked toward their bedroom. It sounded as though the window had been opened, and the two boys made their way in there.

To their suspicions, the window had been opened and the wind blew the curtains around. Sarah, who slept warmly in her bed, stirred about and turned over. Papers rolled into the room and onto the ground. David looked at them, and with a furrow of his eyebrows, retrieved them. A look of confusion took over his face as he inspected them thoroughly. He set two to his side and unrolled one of them. The handwriting was scribbled and running from the rain. The first was short and to the point:

_Dave we need ya help. Stop Jack before its too late._

Les took the opportunity to open the next one and read it out loud. "'_He'll ruin us for sure. Only you can put an end to this'_. Dave, what's this about?" He stared at David with baffled eyes.

The last letter wasn't any different from the others. David hesitated to answer as he thought over what to do. Was this how the newsboys really felt about Jack? It sure didn't seem like it last night at Tibby's. He gathered the papers together and looked them over again, still not giving a response. A round of knocks came to the front door and David scooted out to open it.

A small group of friends stood in the hall with serious faces and damp clothing. Skittery stood in front of the other boys, who consisted of Mush, Kid Blink, Boots, Snoddy, and Specs. Without greeting him first, David checked his pocket watch and sighed. He couldn't exactly kick them all out. And he knew exactly what Skittery wanted to discuss.

"Hey, guys. Just come on in," David greeted in a low tone and opened the door widely. He turned behind him, "Les, why don't you go on to bed."

Without any sign of an indignant mood, Les simply nodded and left the room. David showed the boys the apartment and they sat around the circular wooden table. The atmosphere was of serious tension and no one was quick to start a conversation. Skittery soon broke the silence to regroup as to why the meeting was called.

"I'm sure all 'a yous know the meaning of this. Jack's gotta be stopped. He's gettin' too powerful for his own good and we gotta bring him down once and for all." Skittery stood for a few moments in thought, and stood behind the chair, using the back of it as leverage. "My way 'a thinkin' is that the strike opened all our eyes to see the true Cowboy. Remember how fast he crossed over to the other side with Pulitzer?"

"Well, he did come back to us, you have to remember that," interrupted David, looking up at him.

"He still slipped under us, Dave, ya have to remember that too," spoke Mush.

"Yeah, what if he goes against us again and doesn't turn back?" proposed Kid Blink.

Skittery nodded deviously and David sighed, letting Skittery move on with his lecture with a lazy wave of his hand. He leaned his head against his bent elbow and watched him.

"Tomorrow Spot's givin' Jack the key. But we ain't gonna let that happen, am I right, boys?"

All five boys nodded in underhanded agreement.

"C'mon, Dave," Snoddy said to him. "What bit of credit did ya get from this?"

Suddenly David felt every pair of eyes burning into him waiting to see what he would say. Jack was his friend; he was the only one willing to help him sell the first day and even split the cost with him (even if it wasn't a hundred percent equal). But David was the person with the ideas of the strike. Why hadn't _he_ gotten a party thrown for him? Why wasn't _he_ applauded when he walked down the street? He even allowed him to date his sister, for god's sake. "All right…let's do it."

The boys caught their breath and breathed easier once again. Each newsboy wore a tricky grin and suddenly they didn't look like boys.

"Dave, a word with ya over here," Skittery pointed to another part of the room.

They ambled toward the window of their living room and faced each, arms folded over their chests. "So, Dave, I was thinkin' about a pledge for all of us. Just to make sure there's no backin' down. An oath that ties it all together."

David shook his head immediately. "No. We don't need one! Obviously since we're all here it shows just how serious we are about it. Just talking about killing him, binds us all together."

Skittery looked to the side, tapped his chin, and nodded. They shook hands and made their way back to the table, where the other boys talked fierily about possible plans for assassination.

"So tell me somethin' good," Skittery said as they took seats.

"Well, first things first," started Kid Blink, "we're thinkin' we need just one other person. Racetrack."

"Yeah, not only will we have Dave, but Race is pretty respected too. It'll give the whole thing a better light," added Boots.

David shook his head. "I doubt that can happen. Race is a good friend and all, but I don't think he'd agree to do it."

"Yeah, it didn't look like he was too upset with Jack's triumph yesterday," agreed Specs as he straightened his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "Race is more of a guy that's on his own."

The kerosene lamp that was situated at the center of the brown table flickered slightly and sparked, giving each of the boys' shadows across their faces. Blink rubbed his temples stressfully as Skittery cleared his throat.

"Ya know, it'd be good if we did away with Spot also," he said suddenly. A wave of discomfort settled around the room and made the air tenser.

"Too hard," Mush replied immediately. "Spot's death wouldn't be needed."

"Exactly," David pointed. "It'd be too bloody. We're not murderers, Skittery, we're making a very important point. If we killed Spot it would make us out to be insane executioners. Fellas, we're not doing this to be vicious. We're being bold."

A few other boys nodded in agreement, while few bit their lips and surrendered to the struck down idea of the demise of Brooklyn's Spot Conlon.

"Yeah, now that I think about it…" Skittery rolled his neck around tiredly and yawned, "Spot's elimination would be pointless. I mean, I still think he's a threat, but in all honesty, he'll be harmless after Jack's gone. Maybe even a little bit weaker."

More agreements went around the table and the shrewd, plotting newsboys were all on the same page: Jack Kelly would be slain tomorrow at the hands of his most loyal boys. But they failed to miss two things: the result Jack's death and the effect it would have on all of New York.


	6. Chapter Four

**Twilight:** I'm glad you loves it! lol Keep reviewing, I love your notes!

**Brunette:** No, my dear, you are not blind lol. Its so easy to get caught up in the many Newsies fics, its understandable lol. I thought David would make the perfect Brutus so I'm glad you agree! I sort of played off of "Skittery's bad mood" for choosing him as Cassius hehe. Yep, no Cleopatra in this one. The story starts with the conspirators and ends with the war between the triumvirate and the conspirators. OMG my quotes in your profile! That's flippin sweet! Such an honor! No offense taken from Fatally Forbidden; I think I started it because I wanted to see Spot in a different role lol. (It's all about Spot with me haha). I've heard of Dante's Inferno, but I haven't read it. We talked about it briefly at school and I noticed Judas, Brutus, and Cassius at the 2nd-to-last level, then Lucifer. That would suck lol

**Buttons: **Yes! The redhead is supposed to be the soothsayer! Aw, it's okay lol it's still quite an accomplishment! Hehe.

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_**Chapter Four: The Dreams of Calpurnia**_

Sarah Jacobs jolted to an upright position suddenly in a cold sweat. The cool bedroom was silent and dark as a breeze whistled through the windows. A chilling shiver passed through her and she clutched her bed sheets tightly in her clammy hands. Her heart pounded rapidly through her chest as she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. A haunting dream was responsible for her stirring; she could see Jack in her mind standing proudly and smiling. She caught her breath and lay back down. The remnants of the dream repeated in her brain: in an instant Jack wasn't so happy anymore and he was outnumbered. They stood in a circle around him and he was gone. He was betrayed. _Screaming…blood…deception. An act of duplicity by those who were loyal._

Sarah sat back up and looked around the room. David was sitting up as well and leaned against the wall. His knees were bent in front of him and his head was buried within his arms. She got up and made her way over to the bed, shaking him out of his sleep. "Come on, David, time to wake up."

David immediately lifted his pale face and looked at her through heavy eyes with dark circles underneath. It seemed as though he had been up all night. "What?"

"We have to leave soon…what's wrong? Are you okay?"

David rubbed his eyes and got to his feet. He didn't respond as he stretched his arms high over his head lazily. Sarah furrowed her eyebrows and looked toward him as he began to fumble around with his shoes and buttoning his blue shirt clumsily.

"Did you sleep at all last night?" she asked curiously.

"Sarah, does it look like I slept at all?" he replied curtly and stomped out of the room.

Taken aback at his response, she quickly dressed herself and followed him out into their house. Les was beginning to awake and get into his clothes for the day.

"I need to talk to Jack, so I'm going with you when you leave," she told her brothers.

David said nothing as he poured a glass of water, downed it fast, and exited the apartment. Sarah and Les looked at one another, unsure of what to make of this. Neither had wanted to question him for fear of some sort of scathing retort. Quickly the two got ready and left to catch up to David down the street.

The distribution place was all a buzz once they arrived. There was a larger turnout than any other day, and newsboys from the other boroughs had begun to trickle into Manhattan for the key ceremony. David instantly marched over to an unpopulated spot of the distribution place and paced up and down hurriedly. Les left Sarah's side to make his way over to him until Skittery appeared in front of David, along with Mush, Kid Blink, Specs, Snoddy, and Boots. Sarah placed a hand on her younger brother's shoulder and shook her head at him knowing Les' appearance would further annoy David. They watched with curiosity as David began talking to the small group of boys with a serious face and animated gestures. All the boys had grim expressions.

"Les, where's Jack?" Sarah inquired, looking around and poking through the crowd. Les simply shrugged and quickly disappeared into the energetic swarm of boys. Sarah rolled her eyes and moved throughout the people in search of Jack. She pushed people aside, shoved her way around, and desperately sought him out.

"Wasn't expectin' you ta be here!" came Jack's voice from behind her. His charming smile was present upon his warm face as she spun around and gave him a thankful hug.

"I've been looking for you everywhere," she told him gratefully.

"You okay?" he asked as he pulled her back to face him.

"Um," Sarah bit her lip. "I really need to talk to you." She took hold of his wrist and led him out of the mess of newsies to a quieter part of street where they could speak at a normal level. They walked far away until the boys were almost out of sight and clearly out of earshot.

"What's goin' on?" Jack asked, concerned. "I can't go _too_ far."

"I know, I know, I'll be quick," she stammered. "Jack I really don't want you to go today. I've got this horrible feeling that something bad is going to happen."

Jack made a face. "What're ya talkin' about?"

"God, this is going to sound so ridiculous," she said under her breath to herself. "Okay, I had this terrible dream that something happened right before you left today. You were surrounded by all these newsies and everything was fine, but then—then you…"

Jack raised an eyebrow, questioning Sarah's credibility. "Yeah?"

Sarah rubbed her forehead. "I sound like an idiot! They killed you."

Jack pressed his lips together and stared at her unblinkingly. He folded his arms over his chest and looked around. "Uh, I ain't scared my boys'll be killin' me," he laughed. "I can trust 'em."

"I know you can, but…Jack, I just have this feeling that something's going to happen. Please don't go today, please. I know it sounds crazy, but please just trust me…"

"Sarah, I ain't missin' this." Jack placed his arms on her shoulders and looked her in the eye, giving her a reassuring smile. "Listen to me, everythin' will be fine. I promise. Nothins gonna happen if there's all these people here."

Her face still didn't change. She was still fearful that her dream could possibly come true. "Jack…"

Jack's smile disappeared and he stared at her upset and worrisome face. "Ya're really scared, arentcha?"

She nodded. Jack drew her into his arms and held her close. "If it means dat much…I won't go…" he said reluctantly.

Sarah closed her eyes and relaxed. She breathed easier and looked up at him, pecking him gratefully on the lips. A corner of Jack's lips curled up into a smile and he laced his fingers into hers as they made their way across the street in search of something else to do. He figured he would just escape the entire ceremony anyway. He saw Spot all the time; he could just get it from him then. As they started to round a corner, Kid Blink sprinted toward them, calling for them to stop.

"Jack! Where ya goin'?" Blink asked, panting and out of breath.

"Well, we got a little hitch in the whole thing," Jack started. "Sarah's not real fond of the whole key thing. If you could just let everyone know…that'd be great."

Blink stared at them. Sarah had an unsure look about her and Jack's face looked utterly reluctant. "Jack, ya gotta come back. Nothin' else is happenin. Ya'll get the key and everything'll be fine."

Jack shook his head. "Nope, got a bad feeling." He nodded in the direction of Sarah to his left. "Afraid this could be dangerous, all these strangers."

"Dangerous? The key ceremony?" Blink looked almost astonished, trying to hide his knowledge. "Jack, listen to me…ain't nothin' is gonna happen to you. I'll make sure of it. You'll be perfectly safe with all 'a us. We ain't gonna let anythin' happen."

Sarah looked up to Jack with less concern. Jack looked back at her, wanting more than ever to go.

"Do you swear everything goes fine?" Sarah inquired directly to Blink.

Blink raised his right hand. "You have my word."


	7. Chapter Five

**Brunette: **Blink, that sneaky little guy hehe. Decius is supposed to be one of the more devious of the conspirators, and for some reason Blink's eye patch just seemed sneaky to me lol. Yeah, I watched the extras on the DVD, I know he has TWO eyes! Lol Anyway…see you "around" haha.

**Twilight:** w00t! Yes, no one beats Spot Conlon. Do you know how much persuasion it would take for someone to tell me that Spot isn't that great? Lol, oh it would be a lot.

**A/N:** Edit Character of Artemidorus (Flip) has been sacked. Just wasn't working out with that guy…Actually his part in the play wasn't that great and I just decided to take him out. I'm flippin' proud of this chapter; usually I don't do these scenes well.

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_**Chapter Five: The Fall of Julius Caesar**_

Jack, Spot, and the conspirators paraded through the streets on their way to the statue of Horace Greeley, where Jack was going to be given the key. The crowd was not as great as it had been when the strike was over and it was mostly the newsboys, but Jack felt an even stronger sense of pride since most of the smiling faces were well known to him. Boys stepped out in front of the procession to shake Jack Kelly's hand or pat him on the back. The shorter and younger ones leapt up from the back to get a glimpse of the Manhattan hero. And although it was known that Jack was attached, girls fluttered their eyelashes about and tried their best to capture his much desired attention.

As they strolled along the streets, one person in particular stuck out to Jack. She stood by herself wearing the same outfit from the party and her red hair messier than ever. Her hands intertwined behind her back as she planted her feet into the ground amidst the cheering youths around her with one corner of her lip curled up into a smirk. As soon as Jack made his way near her their eyes locked and he paused for a brief moment. She lifted her chin and looked at him down the slopes of her bony cheeks, as if expecting he have the courtesy to address her at once. Jack followed this unspoken direction and trotted toward her.

"So…" he said in a level just for the two of them to hear, "the last 'a September's here."

The redhead's eyebrow rose promptly. "Still ain't ovah," she said in her deep, discerning voice. She grinned deviously and turned her back, swimming her way out of the crowds and out of his sight. Jack rolled his eyes and continued on his way.

David grasped a hold of Jack's elbow to get his attention. "Actually, Jack, we wanted to talk to you before this whole thing gets started. Nothin' bad, just a little chat in the lodging house." A forced smile screwed itself onto David's cheeks.

"All right," Jack said reluctantly. He notified Spot to make an announcement to everyone to make their way toward the statue. All followed suit and soon the Manhattan boys were in the emptied and vacant lodging house. Even Kloppman was gone. He had ambled outside and stood in the back to witness this supposed "sacred" ceremony.

"So boys," Jack started as he closed the door behind them on the second floor sleeping room and faced his friends. The window was just across the wall and he grinned to himself as he watched Spot crawl onto the statue and speak to the crowd. He noticed Spot give him a wave from the sculpture and continue talking. "What's goin' on?"

The seven pairs of dubious eyes shifted around to one another, eventually resting upon the most dubious of them all: Skittery. He smiled viscously to himself as his arms rested behind his back, rubbing his wrists. David slyly looked behind Skittery's back and saw the point of the blade poking out from underneath his right shirt sleeve. As not to let his own dagger be noticed, David bent down to "tie his shoe" and subtly made sure his weapon was safely tucked against his leg and a leather strap.

"Jack…" Skittery stepped forward. "I just wanna congratulate you all personal and shit. I mean, what ya did, helpin' us beat Pultizer and everythin'…it was really somethin'."

A gracious smile marked Jack's face, masked by a higher level of pride. "Thanks, Skit."

David felt his hands dampen with perspiration and he watched Mush, Blink, Boots, Snoddy, and Specs gradually enclose Jack in a circle. Mush licked his lips and David saw him feel around for the switchblade tucked in the back of the waistband of his shorts. Boots gulped loudly and Blink rubbed his free eye anxiously. David watched as Specs and Snoddy both looked at each other nervously. Specs adjusted his glasses as Snoddy drew in a deep breath. David closed his eyes; it seemed like the only person that was sure of this was Skittery, and he was facing his victim without flinching.

"Thank you, Jack." Skittery slowly outstretched his left arm and unswervingly shook their Caesar's hand. What looked like a friendly grin to Jack was an evil simper to everyone else. Jack beamed humbly.

Specs walked toward Jack and patted him on the shoulder proudly. "Ya're the best, cowboy. Just wanted to thank you in case I didn't get a chance to."

Snoddy, Boots, and Blink all took turns displaying their undying gratitude for Jack's nobility and valor. Skittery took two steps back and watched his plot take action. David noted the malevolence in his stare; it looked as though he were counting down the seconds until Jack Kelly was just a memory. Skittery was unusually calm and his glare was upon the one thing that was going to break up New York. David was even scared of him.

"Guys, I can't tell ya how much this means," said Jack, still shaking hands.

Quickly Skittery shot his head to Mush and nodded, giving him the okay as they slowly made their way away from Jack. Mush's chest moved up and down rapidly and he blinked like he was going through game plans. His arm reached faintly to his back and put a hold on the blade's handle. Skittery slid the knife so that the hold was gripped tightly in his palm, his hand turning a stark white. David felt a horrid rush flood his entire stomach and his mind spun, darting his vision across the room. One by one the boys began to delicately reach for their hidden weapons. Jack stood obliviously in the center, vulnerable and defenseless. He looked to his buddy David.

"And Dave…we can't forget Dave!" Jack proclaimed and stood in front of him. Guilt surrounded the deepest pits of his stomach as he watched Mush furrow his eyebrows determinedly and step toward Jack's back.

"I mean, I coulnt've done without—"

Jack's face twisted and contorted into agonizing pain as Mush thrust his knife into right side of his lower back. In an instant, Jack was mauled. He was stabbed repeatedly and over again as his boys pierced through his body. David dropped to bend down quickly and grab his knife. He fumbled with his pant leg and tried to retrieve his weapon with shaking hands and legs. His breathing picked up to a pant and beads of sweat dripped down his forehead.

Finally he got hold of his dagger and held it in front of him as he watched Jack struggle to maintain life, blood sputtering out the corners of his mouth and staining forever his clothes. He watched the strained faces of his friends taking the life of what some would call their hero. Skittery drove his blade of out Jack's arm and turned his head to David quickly, expecting him to complete his task just as they had done. He stepped forward and licked his lips.

Jack held his stomach with his arms and held his many wounds with his bloodied hands. His knees were bent but had not completely given way to the ground. A twisted expression of agony and torture took over his face as it was bent toward the floor. Snoddy backed away from in front of the cowboy to allow him to face David and he wiped his nose with his red-stained sleeve. Jack lifted his untouched face with betrayed eyes and pathetically looked up to his friend. "And you, Dave?"

David bit his quivering lip, clenched his jaw, closed his eyes, and, without a thought running through his spiraling mind, drove his modest switchblade into Jack's upper abdomen. He felt and heard the stab's effect as he squeezed his eyes tightly, only opening them until his forced the knife out of him. He stepped backward, out of breath and trembling violently.

With his last breath, Jack Kelly sputtered the words, "And so…I fall." Jack's knees finally gave way and he fell to the ground. Dead.

The atmosphere of the room was indifferent as the seven boys stared at the corpse of the fallen Jack, the one who had to die. Skittery nodded slightly until saying, "it had to happen. Don't you feel any trace 'a guilt, a'right? None 'a you!"

Specs shook his head. "We ain't guilty, Skit. Manhattan just got a lot better."

"Everythins done," Blink said with a quaking voice. "It's all done. We can all sleep a lil' better at night now."

The rest of the boys nodded in agreement. Boots dropped his knife to Jack's feet and proceeded to spit on the ground where Jack lay. Snoddy, Mush, Specs, and Blink dropped theirs to the floorboards as well, removing their shirts with exaggerated and shaky movements. Skittery stared for a long moment at Jack, hesitated, and laid his knife directly beside Jack's face. He got up and faced David.

"Ya did a good thing, David." He patted his shoulder and began to change into a cleaner shirt like the other boys.

David held tight his handle and nodded. For a short second in time he wanted to bend down to Jack and make a desperate attempt to revive him. But he could not bring himself to do it. Though, as soon as he envisioned Jack's potential, which was no longer existent, he shook the thought of revitalization away. He let his switchblade out of his hand and began to make his way toward the door. Just before he walked through the doorway, he turned to his friends. And with dignity in his voice, he said to the boys, "Liberty and freedom."

The seven were still as they soaked in his words. They quickly finished changing and made their way downstairs. As they stopped at the end of the staircase, David turned to face the line of conspirators. He said to them, "As of now we don't talk of this happening. When we enter those streets out there, we only announce that Jack is dead. I'll make a speech, getting them on our side but not admitting that we did it. I'll handle it."

They all nodded without interruption and sauntered out the doorway and into the screaming mass of people. They knew what they had done was top secret. They knew they wouldn't get caught.

But they didn't know that from the statue at which Spot stood, he could distinguish perfectly into the second floor of the lodging house. And deliberately deceiving Spot Conlon was the biggest mistake of all.


	8. Chapter Six

**Twilight:** Thank you! And thanks for reading my new story!

**Brunette:** Holy shit. For you to say my chapter was "breathtaking, vivid, and real" is SUCH a compliment lol. I'm a huge fan of Hellie 'a Brooklyn and I absolutely adore that story and the way you write it. Flawless. Thanks a ton man! Haha! No, it definitely took nerve to kill Jack and David is strong for doing that lol.

**Buttons: **Oh hun, don't hurt yourself running around like that! lol you're silly. Poor Brutus…pulled in so many different directions. BrutusBrutal, I never thought of that! HIGH FIVE!

**A/N:** I started another story! Read it if you have time! lol

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_**Chapter Six: The Noble Words of Brutus**_

David took a deep, soothing breath. _Just relax._ He gripped his sweaty palm on the doorknob and twisted it, swinging it open widely. _So much for relaxing_; Spot faced him just outside the doorframe. He stood upright and rigid with his arms crossed over his chest. David winced as he eyed the sour expression on his face. It was intimidating with his steely, gray eyes stabbing him fiercely. The boys behind David all stared ahead of them and waited for one of them to speak.

"What's goin' on, boys?" Spot asked as if nothing had happened.

"Uh, we—I gotta, ya know," David stammered. He pointed a shaking hand over to the statue where everyone was swarming anxiously. "Speech."

Spot furrowed his eyebrows and looked behind him. "Speech? About what?" Spot asked dumbly. David knew he knew; maybe not exactly what happened, but he knew _something_ happened. Happened to Jack. He had to have known. Spot was just playing dumb, he really know what happened. Nothing gets past him. He knows, he knows. Why was he pretending to be naïve when he knows full well what's going on? Why was Spot messing with his mind?

Suddenly David got lightheaded and a knot in his stomach started to get bigger. Things around him got stretched and contorted dizzily as the noise melted together into one, big, headache-forming sound. He took a few deep breaths and pulled himself together. Quickly he placed his hands on either of Spot's shoulders. "Jack's dead."

"What?" David felt Spot's shoulders immediately tense. "What happened?"

David could feel the heat boiling within Spot and surge throughout his veins. _This is what you get, David! _"We just found him upstairs…he's been murdered." He forced a tear to come to his eye. "We came in here to talk to him, he went upstairs, and while he was there we stayed down here to talk for a bit. We went up to the bunkroom…and, well…"

Spot's breathing was sharp and forceful. The entirety of his body clenched. "Who did this?" he inquired in a low, growling tone. His eyes shifted to the other boys behind him. "Who did this!"

David, as well as the others, began shaking their heads instantly and started to say things such as "wasn't me" and "don't know". David turned behind him and gave a look of helplessness. They shrugged his way and David turned back to Spot, who was now beyond raging. "Please…let me make a speech."

Spot glared at him icily for a moment and David saw his life flash before his eyes. "Fine." He shoved his way around David and the other boys and bounded up the staircase.

With another calming breath, David stepped out the door, completely forgetful of the blood stains on his clothing. The conspirators followed him silently as they ambled through the people and to the statue. David's mind raced around and around thinking of what things to say. He was the walking mouth, he could handle this. Words came naturally to him, right? Right. So why were they suddenly blocked from his mind? David noticed the glances given to him by onlookers as they furrowed their eyebrows and whispered to one another behind their hands. This would be tough.

The crowd's cheers and joviality vanished and turned into murmurs. They watched David climb onto the base of Horace Greely's statue and stand before them. David felt sickened once again as he looked out across the many people and down at the six faces that wore unsure expressions. Even Skittery looked uneasy. David slowly raised his arms to speak.

"B-Boys…Girls…" he stuttered. The crowd didn't seem to obey. "Everyone, listen up!" he shouted. They snapped to attention and quieted. "I'm afraid I have some awful news to bring you…" He looked down at the six boys and continued. "Jack Kelly…just now…has been killed."

A split second of silent shock waved over the entire mass. And a second later they erupted in angered shouts and saddened cries. David watched as the group began moving about each other, asking if that was in fact true.

"I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this news. Not ten minutes ago we found out," David called. "Please, listen to me though!"

The wailing subsided a bit as they looked to the brave man upon the statue with blood on his clothes and pity in his eyes.

"Jack Kelly was a great person. All of you know that and there is no denying it. He was courageous, smart, and he always looked out for his boys no matter what. Always had your back."

Several nodded in agreement as they fought to hold back tears. He noticed a small boy no older than eight years hold his face in his hands. Many girls were holding each other and sobbing with tears streaming down their cheeks. David could only imagine what Sarah was going through and that thought killed him. But the cause was much greater than this, so he continued.

"However!" The newsies looked up at him in puzzlement. David began to pace up and down as he spoke, a thing killers do to gloat of what they just did. "There had to have been motive for this vicious crime. And no, my friends, jealousy was not the incentive of this killer! Envy of Jack Kelly did not kill him. But this murderer knew what lay ahead of everyone in New York. They knew what could happen, had this official 'coronation' take place. They knew of what could happen to Jack if he was made the ruler.

"But don't misunderstand me!" David raised one arm. "Jack was a good friend of mine and I am just as upset as you all are right now. But I got to thinking in the mind of a killer. The twisted mind of _this_ killer. My fellow newsies, I've come to an understanding of this killer's motive! I thought back to Jack's reign as unofficial leader. During the strike, did you not see him turn against us? Did you not see him betray us? How could we prevent that from happening again? And it hit me-er, the killer to murder Jack and put off any chance of that happening again."

David noticed many boys cock their heads in thought and even saw many nodding. He had won the newsies' support.

"For Jack Kelly…there are tears for his love, joy for his fortune, honor for his valor…and death for his ambition. So with this speech, have I offended any of you? Speak up!"

David's eyes scanned over his crowd and saw them become one in agreement. One person began clapping and said "we're with ya, Davey!" and soon the entire mass of newsies was applauding him. He had won their trust. He had won their respect.

He hopped down onto the cobblestone in front of the conspirators. They now wore different expressions that were of satisfaction. Boots nodded at him happily as David began to walk through the throng of people. They continued to clap and applaud him, complimenting him and patting his shoulder.

"Let Dave be leader now!"

"Live, David!"

"We'd be lost without ya, Davey!"

The guilt eating away at his conscious lessened as he moved out of the populace. He almost smiled to himself had he been more sadistic; however, he had just killed his best friend in cold blood and there was no replacing that. He started his way home by himself to forget about this day.

With a bloody, red bandana clutched tightly in his hands, Spot made his way to the statue. The newsies still clapped about David's speech and talked amongst themselves of what a fine boy David was. Spot hoisted himself onto the base of the statue and held his arms above him. At once the noise stopped and all attention was upon the leader of Brooklyn. They assumed he too was going to talk about the silver lining of this cloud, and about how Jack was too ambitious to be the king of Manhattan, and how this was actually a good thing; they prepared for Spot to do the exact thing David had just done. They assumed wrong.

"Friends, newsies, lend me your ears…"


	9. Chapter Seven

**Buttons: **"Shoot-cake" haha! That's such a funny expression! Spot's speech, I hope, will be good. It's a turning point in the story pretty much and I just hope you enjoy it! I've been scribbling bits and pieces down for a week so I hope it comes together well. Jack being dead kinda bothered me too for a little bit and I'm the one who wrote it! I watched Newsies the other day and I was just like "Hm, this is awkward" lol. But I really like Jack's character and it's sad now that he's gone lol. I guess I'll just have to write a story, or at least a one-shot, about him too hehe. I don't want people to think I hate Jack!

**Brunette: **It's good that you like Hellie 'a Brooklyn (obviously) because if you don't it would be shown in the writing. It's like selling a product—you have to "believe in what you're selling". Sorry, we were going over that in business class the other day lol. Yeah it's easy to see that you enjoy writing that story and everyone else likes it too! Yes, Dave isn't exactly the best at playing cool in that chapter. I was trying to keep him "noble" like Brutus and still a little shaky about killing his best friend. That was kinda hard to do. The Plebians and people of Rome in the play are easily swayed and almost stupid, so I was trying to match that in the last chapter. "Mindless masses" is the perfect phrase lol. Good! I'm glad you liked the ending of that chap! If someone hasn't read the play or doesn't know that Antony changes everything, it would be hard to get excited about that lol. I'm glad you liked it though!

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_**Chapter Seven: Antony Takes Control**_

The crowd was silent as Spot stood in front of Horace Greeley's statue. They watched him through tearful eyes as they waited for him to begin speaking. Spot took a deep breath and continued with his speech:

"I came here to lay to rest Jack Kelly. David's just been tellin' ya how ambitious he was and that's what killed him. Yeah, he could say that 'cause Dave's a good guy. He could use that as excuse for the killers. But Jack was my friend and close ally. I agree with Dave there that he always had ya back, 'cause he did. He was loyal and reliable. But Dave says Jack was ambitious and you can trust David. Jack led ya guys through the strike and risked his own neck in the process. Still, since ya listen to David, Jack was just too ambitious."

The masses nodded amongst themselves, agreeing that David was trustworthy and a good guy. He was noble and honorable and they respected him. What David told them about Jack was true: He was too determined. Sniffles and silent sobs sounded throughout the newsies as they turned their attention to Spot, curious as to what he would say next. From the looks of it, Spot was dismayed and just as, if not more, saddened as the rest of them. In his firmly taut hand was the bloody bandana of their dead leader. His face was a combination of anger and betrayal and frustration.

"In tradition of rememberin' those who passed on, let's take a little walk down memory lane, shall we?" Spot inquired and proceeded to hop down onto the cobblestone so that he was level with his audience. He smirked to himself but concealed it with a mask of worry and concern. Weaving in and out of the boys, he spotted who he was looking for and took place right in front of him.

"Crutchy, rememba when you was in the refuge?" asked Spot.

"Yeah, 'a course," he responded weakly.

"Tell me, Crutch," Spot placed a hand on Crutchy's shoulder and continued in a lowered voice that made everyone around him scoot in closer to hear more. "Who was it that was tryin' to get ya outta there the first night? Who came back in risk of gettin' caught again by Snyder? Who was that hangin' from the top 'a the building?"

Crutchy lowered his head and the boys around him focused attention entirely upon the scrawny boy hesitant to answer.

"Jack."

"Jack!" Spot shouted in repetition while turning around and raising up his arms. "Jack Kelly snuck out to that shit hole to break one 'a his boys out! He dangled from that rooftop (in danger 'a fallin' to the ground, might I add) just to get his friend outta there! And ya wanna know who was holdin' that rope at the top?"

The boys looked around asking each other who was holding the rope indeed. Spot turned back to face Crutchy whose expression was caught between which boy's power he should side with.

"David," Crutchy replied. "But Dave was just as much able to get caught as Jack was!"

Spot stepped forward and, again in a low voice, said to the gimp, "do ya know how easily it woulda been for David to let go 'a that rope?"

Whispered buzzing swept throughout the engaged throng of boys that were shocked at Spot's proposal that David _wanted_ to kill Jack.

"David would nevah do that!" shouted a boy from the back of the crowd.

"True!" Spot answered and walked around energetically throughout the newsies. "But do ya still believe that after David was just up there talkin' about how Jack bein' dead is a _good_ thing!"

Consider that a slap in the face. Spot locked his gazes upon the conspirators that stood nervously at the base of the statue. Skittery darted his eyes around anxiously and eventually pulled at the back of Blink's shirt and soon all were slipping out behind the newies to be out of sight. Spot smirked.

"Boys, let's look at the strike for a lil' bit," he proposed and began pacing up and down the cobblestone. "Lemme ask ya, was Jack treated any different than anyone else? No! Jack didn't work like the rest 'a ya guys. He didn't have money like the rest 'a ya guys. He didn't eat sometimes like the rest 'a ya guys. Yet David says he was ambitious. David's a good guy, I s'pose."

The newsies bit their lips and considered what Spot had said. It was true what David had said, that Jack was getting too ruthless for his own good. He had to be brought down eventually. But Spot was making excellent points as well: Jack risked himself to save Crutchy and he suffered like the rest of them. The newsies were divided with each other as well as themselves.

"This is gettin' too much for me…" Spot trailed off as he headed toward the statue once more. He leaned his forehead against the cool concrete and beat his fist against it repetitively. Murmurs rang in his ears from behind him as the newsies discussed what they were to do about the situation.

"Poor Jack!" someone shouted. "How dare David say he shoulda been killed!"

"Jack didn't do anythin'!"

"He shouldn't've been murdered! We need him now more than ever!"

Spot smiled to himself deviously and turned back around. The boys were arguing with one another on _who_ was right and _what_ was right. They shoved those who opposed to their opinions and got into fist fights. Who _should _they listen to?

"But how can ya say that David would so such a thing!" asked one boy from the front of the crowd.

"Hardly believable, I know," Spot replied. "But you all say David was honorable. You trust him." He jumped back up onto the statue and made one last example of Jack's greatness. "Boys, do ya remember when I tried givin' the key to Jack at Tibby's that night after the strike ended?"

All nodded in agreement.

"Does that say ambition to you!" he shouted angrily, capturing the attention and favor of the boys in front of him. "Does denyin' the key say that Jack was plannin' to be dictator of New York and stomp all ovah you'se guys?"

Now the boys were riled up into frenzy. They shouted their agreement with Spot and their allegiance to him. They applauded Spot and cheered, though their screams were in opposition of David and any who agreed with him.

"David's wrong!"

"I can't believe he said that! We need Jack!"

"Mutiny!"

The last scream that graced Spot's eager ears made him realize that he had won. "Newsies, if ya're willin' to do it…"

The boys nodded impatiently predicting what Brooklyn was about to propose.

"I'll lead ya in rebellion."


	10. Chapter Eight

**_Chapter Eight: The People Are Divided_**

It had been nearly a week until the anger of the newsies had subsided. It was almost as bad as the newsies vs. the scabs during the strike. There had been riots after Spot made his speech and turned the majority of them against David. Many of David's supporters were given soakings on a daily basis until they eventually gave up the cause and held up their hands in defeat. Some of the truly infuriated boys quit selling for days out of pure resentment. They stomped around the streets and grunted at any fellow newsie in their way, be it friend or foe. Boys stole food and other items imaginable more frequently and daringly. They refused to sleep at the lodging house with everyone else. They fought with each other. They hated one another. All because Spot had them convinced that David and any of his allies deserved the worst.

Flip made his way home during the evening on one not-so-pleasant night and quickly paced through the streets toward the lodging house. He was a small boy of eleven years with both low intelligence and street smarts and was what some would call bumbling and clumsy. He was one of the few boys that had yet to publicly announce which side he was on; he was never really all that fond of Jack and he thought David did a fine job with his speech. Even so, he had seen what happened to the David supporters and he certainly did not like it. Those who had taken Brooklyn's side were fierce and vicious against their opponents and stopped at nothing to bring them down. He had survived this long through the riots and only hoped to make it home one more night alive.

Flip's thin legs hastened as he passed the shops and alleys on the way home. The tone of Manhattan was once again dark and suspicious; much like it was during the strike. You never knew when someone would pop out of nowhere and attack you, and you never knew which leader they sided with. It was survival of the fittest and all fended for themselves. The most logical thing to do was to move out of Manhattan; but Flip had nowhere to go. He couldn't be a newsie anywhere else in New York and escape discussion of Jack or Spot or David.

"Hey kid," called a low voice from the darkened alleyway in a hissing tone. "Ovah heah…"

Flip stopped in his tracks and turned his head nervously to the side of him. In front of him lay blackness and the glare of the moonlight in the black puddles. A rat scurried out of the alley and across Flip's feet, causing him to jump back. He told himself to run, run fast, and get home safely. But even so, was home to him at the lodging house even safe? The owner of the voice stepped into the light a bit more with the addition of two equally bigger and stronger boys.

"I hear you'se been heard talkin' 'bout Spot," the bully said.

"No, I swear!" Flip answered hastily in his fear. A bead of sweat trickled from the back of his neck, past the collar of his shirt, and down to his back.

"Swear what?" another asked, beginning to walk about Flip.

Flip's eyes shifted from each boy to the other quickly as his heartbeat quickened and he searched for an answer for this boy. He had never been more scared in the last few days including this moment, than he had been in all of his life on the streets. For a second he swore he knew who these newsies were, but even if he did recognize them, it would make no difference; nobody knew who they were anymore. "Huh?" Flip asked weakly.

A strong arm placed itself around Flip's shoulders while its owner spoke to him. "Flip, Flip, Flip," he said in a patronizing tone, "all ya gotta do is tell us who ya're sidin' with. That's all, kid. Just a simple answer."

_Just a simple answer_, thought Flip. _Spot or David. Simple answer. _From the looks of it and from what he could recall in his past memory, they were David supporters. He could have sworn they were from Manhattan and that they were still loyal to David. He had a hunch. So he went with it.

"Well?" one asked, standing right before his face with a questioning, demanding gaze.

"David," Flip squeaked. "I-I'm sidin' with David…"

The boys looked at one another while exchanging the same looks. The same arm that was draped over Flip's small shoulders strengthened while they began walking into the alley. Flip's feet fought to keep back and he struggled with all his might to keep from entering the alley. Alleys were bad news from his experience.

"We'se just wantin' to talk to ya, Flip! Really! C'mon, just a lil' chat ovah by that wall there…"

"I gotta get home!" Flip resisted. "Lemme go!" He broke free from their hold and stumbled to the ground. A round of snickers came from the thugs while Flip stood before the three towering boys with shaking hands and wobbling knees. Wanting more than ever to get out, he kicked one boy in the knee and threw a weak punch to another's face. The snickers increased while one picked up Flip like a sack of potatoes and whirled around the alley, all the while Flip kicking and punching and yelling the entire time.

"Put me down, ya big jerks!" Flip screamed. "I ain't done nothin' wrong, let me go!"

"Nothin' wrong?" the one who held Flip said and stopped. "Ya ain't done nothin' wrong but support that low, scum, piece 'a shit trash David and his friends! Do ya even remember Jack Kelly?"

"I remember Jack Kelly but—"

"Don't you'se even mention 'is name, ya no-good, dirty rat!" another insulted. He pulled Flip from the other's arms and threw him to the ground. "Remember Jack Kelly, Flip."

The last thing Flip ever saw were brass-knuckled fists colliding with his face. He blacked out and felt the pain of his innocent opinion of this riot.

* * *

Buttons:I was rather proud myself for remembering the whole saving Crutchy attempt! Usually when I write a fic I completely forget anything that happens in the movie and just focus on this plotline. I like David too, -tear- and I hope people like how I've interpreted him in this story, since I sorta like him in this. I've never really focused on David in a fic, this is weird haha. 8-hour bus ride to a ski trip with friends—sounds all too familiar! lol I've gone on tons of trips with my friends for my school and all that time together always results in weirdness hehe. But good times though, right!

BrunetteHaha! There's just something about the bad guys in every story or movie that is attracting! You can't help it either. It's like "God, I hate him…but I want in his pants, like now!" Oh jeeze…its torture lol. Yes, I definitely agree with you that the longer you spend on something the better it turns out. Hopefully it shows through this story, because it takes me a long time to write chapters. I was looking through a bunch of my old stuff a little while ago and it was easy to pick out the chapters in which I was tired or lazy lol. And thank you! I'm hoping people will like David in this; his character has to be sympathized with a lot since he's the tragic hero. I just hope everything likes it.

A/N: Flip is back, but not as Artemidorus. That's it lol. So sorry for the forever update.


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